


Duet for One Voice

by Carolyn_Spencer



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25365172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carolyn_Spencer/pseuds/Carolyn_Spencer
Summary: Sometimes it's the silence of voices absent that carries the truest sound.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Duet for One Voice

I should have known you’d show up at my door, Bones. Tonight of all nights. And bearing gifts, I see. Well, don’t stand there in the doorway with that hangdog look on your face. Come on in, and take a seat.  
  
I’m surprised you didn’t take that bottle of very expensive Romulan ale down to the crew party. You do know that stuff’s illegal, don’t you? But what the hell, it’s not every day we return home from a five-year mission. I dropped in for few minutes, you know. Made my speech…. ‘so proud of you all…we’ll always remember our dear departed comrades….’ Just the right mix of happiness and sorrow, I think. I even threw in a little figurative waving of the Federation flag for good measure. Then I cut out so they could have their celebration without my stripes in their faces. They’re a good crew, Bones. The best I ever had or ever hope to have.  
  
You’ll be happy to know I stopped myself before I told them someone else might have done a better job of it…brought more of them home.  
  
Bones, will you please sit down. You’re putting a crick in my neck.  
  
And I’ll take a glass of that ale now. Joke’s on you, Bones. You thought you’d need the ale to get me to talk about Spock, didn’t you? Sorry…shouldn’t have said that. I know you’re trying to help. You want to know what happened when he came to see me today. Hell, I’ll tell you. Even without the ale. The answer is…dammed if I know.  
  
Four hours ago he was sitting where you are right now. Four hours. Seems like forever. I knew he would come, though. Ever since I signed his long-term leave request last week, I knew he would come. Took him long enough, didn’t it? He knew I wouldn’t ask him. I’ve always been so careful not to invade his privacy, so he knew I wouldn’t ask why he felt he had to leave. A whole goddam week, Bones. And that bastard never said a word. But I knew he would come. So I waited here every night. And finally today…the day before we dock, the day he’s due to leave…today he came.  
  
In he walked. He was wearing a black tunic and pants. Vulcan clothes. You know I don’t think I ever saw him out of uniform before except on a mission. Not even on leave…when we made him take leave. Not even then. But today he wore Vulcan clothes. That’s when it hit me, I guess. That’s when I really knew he was going to go through with it. That’s when I knew he really was going to leave…everything. The ship. The service.  
  
We were so civilized, Bones. I’m sitting in my chair. He’s sitting in his. Like any minute we’d bring out the chess set for a game, or like he was making a report, or like we were just talking away the tensions of a hard day. Like it was any ordinary day. But of course it wasn’t. He folded those elegant hands of his in his lap, and if I thought he gripped them together a little harder than he usually did maybe it was just my imagination.  
  
He said he thought he owed me an explanation.  
  
I didn’t say anything because we both knew he did.  
  
That was the last time he could look me in the face. His eyes dropped to his hands.  
  
I saw his mouth move, heard the words he spoke, but none of it made any sense to me. But he was hurting, Bones. He was hurting so badly. Even through my anger I saw that. He talked of being Vulcan and being Human. What I heard was his pain at being neither one nor the other. He talked of what his homeland expected of him. What I heard was his pain at never being able to satisfy his father. He talked of finding answers. What I heard was his pain at finding only that there were more questions.  
  
He’s going to a place called Gol, Bones. Some godforsaken retreat somewhere high in the mountains at the edge of the Sas’a’shar Desert way south of ShiKahr. I made him tell me exactly where it was. I need a place to picture him in my mind. Sounds desolate as hell, doesn’t it? He said it will bring him the peace he’s looking for. The answers he so desperately wants to find. I asked if he was coming back. No, he said. He didn’t think so. You see, Bones, they’ll meld with him there. They’ll _cleanse_ those troublesome emotions right out of him there. And you want to hear the worst of it? They’ll remove the _memories_ that caused those emotions. He wants to become a goddam mental eunuch, Bones. He’s going to goddam beg them to do that to him.  
  
Guess I sort of lost it then. Next thing I knew I was up and pacing the room and calling him a lot of things I didn’t really mean. Things I hope he’ll eventually forgive me for. I called him a damn coward, Bones. How could I have done that? When I know he’s the bravest man I’ll ever know? Without integrity, I said. He’s got more integrity in his little finger than most people have in their entire bodies. Shit, Bones.  
  
He sat there and didn’t say a word while I attacked him. Not a single word. You want to know the real reason I was so angry, Bones? It was because he was going to have the temerity to actually leave…me. How’s that for being an arrogant bastard?  
  
Finally I ran out of names to call him. Ran out of anything to say at all. I found myself at the porthole looking out into space and wondering how in hell I was going to get through the rest of my life without my right arm.  
  
He came up behind me. His heat along my back. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t speak. Just that incredible heat. And all I could think of was how cold it would be never to feel that heat again.  
  
Then he laid his hand on my shoulder. Spoke my name. Once. Low and deep.  
  
The touch. His voice. They broke something in me. I could feel it tear, Bones. Down deep inside. I spun around. My hand came up. I thought I would strike him, but I didn’t. I…I kissed him instead. I grabbed the back of his neck, roughly brought his head down to meet mine, and I kissed him hard. I swear I never knew I was going to do that, Bones. Never knew I wanted to. Next thing I know, I’m pulling at his clothes. Desperate. Frantic. And I’m hearing words coming out of my mouth…begging him to let me see him. Touch him. Pleading, Bones, to let me fuck him. I never…. I don’t know what happened. God, I wanted him so badly. Needed to…. My cock was aching, hard and thick and throbbing in my pants. I brushed up against him, thrusting, tearing his clothes. Not gentle. There was no gentleness in me. Just need. An overpowering need…to be in him. God, Bones. I wanted to fuck him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.  
  
He should have punched my lights out. He should have turned away from my need. He didn’t. I think maybe that’s the greatest miracle of my life, Bones, that he didn’t. Instead he grasped my hands. Held them in his firm warm grip, and waited for my body to still and my eyes to meet his. I almost couldn’t look at him. I knew what I would see. Pity, maybe. Certainly there could be no fire there that would match mine. Finally I looked up.  
  
I’ll never forget what I saw in his eyes. He looked at me the way he’s always looked at me. The same way he’s looked at me a hundred times…a thousand times before. Only I never recognized it for what it was. He loved me. He loved me, and because he loved me he was leaving. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. Instead he released my hands and took a step back. Then he nodded. And began to undress. Slowly. Methodically. He didn’t rush or hesitate. There was no coyness in him. We would have only this one time, but he would deny neither of us.  
  
I’ve been sitting here for hours thinking about how perfect his body was. And it was, Bones. Perfect. In every way. His chest. His shoulders. Sleek powerful muscles in his arms. His skin, olive against the midnight black of the hair on his chest. Slim. Taut. His thighs, legs…long and lean. How perfect his limp cock was. How long and thin and unaroused. Just like the rest of him. Now I can think about how his body looked. Then …then, God forgive me, all I wanted him to do was hurry.  
  
He came to me. Removed my tunic. Bent to his knees and took off my boots and socks. I remember fighting the urge to force his face to my groin, to thrust my fingers into his hair and press his slightly open mouth to my cock. My knees were shaking so hard I could barely stand by the time he rose and unfastened my pants, slid them and my briefs down my legs and off. Then he stood and took my hand to lead me to the bed.  
  
He lay down, spread himself for me. I think I said his name, or maybe I moaned it. And then I was on him, plunging my tongue into his mouth, thrusting my hands into his hair, moving on him, thankful for his strength as I never had been before. Knowing that his strength was one more gift he could give me, that I wouldn’t hurt him. But I think I tried, or maybe it was myself I was trying to hurt, or both of us. I don’t know anymore. My hands were all over him, my mouth. My body rubbing against his, feeling him coming erect under me. God, the feeling of him coming alive under me. When I took his cock into my mouth, Bones, he moaned. I’ll hear the sound he made in my dreams for the rest of my life. It was…it was the sound of hope dying, of ecstasy being born. It was terrible and wonderful, and I don’t know if I can live the rest of my life without hearing it again.  
  
It was then I knew I loved him. I told him. Over and over I told him. Again and again and again. I sobbed it and yelled it and cried it and whispered it as he pulled his legs back and guided me in.  
  
We didn’t last long. Couldn’t. But we came together. The last gift he gave me.  
  
We lay together for a long time after that. Our bodies…fit together, and we breathed into the heat between them.  
  
I kissed him. Once. The way I wanted to, needed to, with gentleness. Finally he rose and started for the head. On his back were the marks my fire had laid on his skin. The bites. The scratches. The bruises turning yellow marring that alabaster perfection. I told him I loved him one more time. He stopped but didn’t turn back.  
  
“The masters at Gol do not love, Jim,” he said, “but neither do they suffer pon farr, nor inflict it on their Chosen One.”  
  
So…a physical eunuch as well as a mental one. And that was it. The one sentence that made his leaving inevitable. The one sentence that made me know he wouldn’t listen to anything else I had to say.  
  
His shuttle left…let’s see…two hours and twenty minutes ago. I beamed him over myself. But before he left I had a final word for him. “Remember,” I said. It wasn’t a request.  
  
Well, there it is, Bones. Now you’ve heard the whole sorry little story.  
  
You know, I think I’m going to take Nogura up on his offer for that posting as Starfleet Chief of Operations. Now don’t give me that look. Crippled captains don’t command starships, Bones. It’s as simple as that. Don’t be sad for us, my friend. You see, I know he’s coming back. He won’t succeed. He can’t. He won’t find what he’s looking for at Gol, because _I’m_ what he’s looking for. Our _love_ is what he’s looking for. One day he’ll find that out. All I have to do is put one foot in front of the other and keep going until he does.  
  
Hey, old friend, I’m getting pretty tired. Think I’ll try to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. See yourself out, will you?

**Author's Note:**

> First published in 2001 in the KiScon 2 fanzine.


End file.
